Valentina
My heart is thumping in my chest as I sit up in Luca’s bed, my most conservative pajamas covering every inch of me. I purposely chose the ugliest, rattiest, most old-fashioned pajamas I’ve got. It’s a black and white checkered two-piece, and it makes me look like a freaking Dalmatian. I don’t think I’ve ever looked quite this unattractive before.
I can’t even figure out why I’m acting this way. I’m not one to get scared, or to be intimidated, yet the idea of spending the night with Luca fills me with a strange kind of anxiety. Everything happened so quickly that I haven’t had a chance to truly let it sink in. How are we supposed to go from weeks of arguments and distance to… whatever this is? We can’t.
The distinct sound of the shower running fills my ears, keeping my nerves sky-high. I’ve been in Luca’s home countless times, yet it all feels brand new and unfamiliar. I still remember when he had this place renovated, two years after we started working together. Back then, he still hadn’t given up on making me quit, and he’d made me decorate his entire house for him.
I’m the one who chose this bed, and I even hand-selected these pillows for him. I never thought I’d someday end upsharing his bed. I never could’ve imagined that someday, I’d be his wife.
My jaws clench involuntarily as I think back to the way he’d decline twenty different pillows, just to annoy me. It was around that time that he realized nothing he could ask of me would be too much. I did it all with a pleasant smile on my face, even when I felt like I wasn’t learning anything, or when the things he’d ask of me clearly fell outside of my job role.
Was that when things started to change between us? Shortly after, he started entrusting me with more important work. The change was gradual, but that was a definite turning point.
“What are you thinking about so hard?”
My eyes widen when I see him standing in the doorway with nothing but a pair of black boxer shorts on. My eyes roam over his body, and my face flushes instantly. I always thought he looked amazing in a suit, but he looks far better without it. My eyes settle on the waistband of his boxer shorts, where a deep V is clearly visible below his abs. I know that he works out every single day, but I never quite realized what the result of that would be.
“Valentina?” he says, his tone amused.
I tear my gaze away, my face no doubt red. “Just happy to learn that the pillows I picked are as comfortable as I remember them being.”
Luca chuckles, and I glance back at him to find him looking somewhat remorseful. He cups the back of his neck and looks away. “They were just replaced,” he murmurs. “Thank you for that, by the way. I’m not sure I’ve ever told you this, but when you do something, you do it well.”
My lips tug up into a genuine smile, and I shake my head. When I bought these pillows, I also requested that the store replace them every two years. I didn’t think he’d even realized that. I always assumed that’s something his housekeeper wouldhandle. Luca has a whole team that comes in while he’s at work, and they take care of his every need.
He walks up to the bed, and I swallow hard. “Are you… are you going to sleep likethat?”
Luca gets into bed and turns to face me, his back against the headboard. Is he purposely keeping his torso on display for me? “Why? Does it bother you?”
I tug at the collar of my pajamas and shake my head. “No. Of course not.” I can’t admit that itdoesbother me — that would feel too much like admitting defeat.
Luca laughs, and I glance at him, my heart skipping a beat. He looks so ridiculously sexy, lying in bed like that. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look so relaxed, so disarmed. “Hey, Perdita,” he murmurs.
I raise my brows, surprised he knows the names of any of the101 Dalmatians.
“There’s an important aspect of our wedding ceremony that we missed out on.”
“What part?” I ask, confused.
“The part where I get to kiss the bride.”
My eyes widen, and I look away, flustered. My embarrassment earns me another chuckle from him, and I see him shake his head from my peripheral vision. “You’re so fucking cute,” he murmurs. “I didn’t think you could get more beautiful, but I think I like you best just like this. Your long hair falling down your shoulders, your face devoid of any makeup. It just highlights how naturally beautiful you are, Mrs. Windsor.”
Mrs. Windsor.I don’t think I’ll ever get used to hearing him say that. How come he’s so unaffected? How is this not insanely weird to him?
Luca reaches for me, eliciting a soft yelp from me when he lifts me into his arms and positions me so I’m straddling him, our positions the same as in the car. It seems so long ago, butit’s only been a few hours. He places his hands on my thighs and looks into my eyes, his gaze moving leisurely, as though he’s trying to memorize every inch of my face.
I look away, confused by the way my heart races. I’m still mad at him, but when he looks at me like that, I can’t help but want to forgive him.
“Valentina,” he whispers, his voice husky. “Look at me.”
I bite down on my lip, my entire body tensing at those words. Does he know what he does to me when he says that? Does he realize which memories resurface when I hear him say those words?
“Look at me, wife.”
I do as he asks, my heart hammering in my chest. My cheeks are flushed, and I can barely make myself raise my head.
“Thank you,” he murmurs.